


I Sold My Soul for This

by 3988Akasha



Series: Chicago [6]
Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Flashbacks, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-18 03:37:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/875170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3988Akasha/pseuds/3988Akasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bass finally learns the real reason Miles left and Danny wants a chance to prove himself to his Uncles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Sold My Soul for This

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ElDiablito_SF](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElDiablito_SF/gifts), [Dragomir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragomir/gifts), [Steph_Schell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steph_Schell/gifts), [Timid_Timbuktu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timid_Timbuktu/gifts), [hithelleth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hithelleth/gifts).



> This portion is inspired by the fact that I don't believe the canon!! There had to be more to why Miles left.

 “What are you doing here?”

“You’re not exactly hard to find.”

“That’s because I’m not hiding, Miles.”

Miles rolled his eyes as Ben turned to face him. It’d been years since he’d seen his brother and it was like nothing had changed. Sure, he had a few more lines on his face, his eyes weren’t quite as bright as they once were, but that was everyone. The world was a harder place.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to find you.”

“Haven’t you already done enough, Miles? You’ve destroyed enough families, don’t you think?”

“Rachel came to me, Ben. I didn’t come sneaking in the middle of the night and steal her out of your bed.”

Ben leveled him with a look and Miles swallowed thickly. That probably wasn’t the best choice of words, but it was Ben and Ben had a trick of making the stupid come out faster and more frequently.

“The world went to hell and you’re still upset about something that never happened.”

He should have seen it coming, really. But, he didn’t, and that’s why Ben’s fist connected with his jaw. Great, just great. Another thing he’d have to find an excuse for because no one knew he was here and telling Bass, oh by the way my brother beat my face because he thinks I slept with his wife – yeah, that wasn’t going to happen.

“She hasn’t told you anything, has she.”

It wasn’t a question and Miles wanted to beat the smirk off his brother’s face for many, many reasons – few had anything to do with Rachel. His brother had always been a smug bastard, a family trait, but Ben was smart. Sometimes Miles thought he was too damn smart for his own good and also quite possibly the dumbest person he’d ever met.

“She still says she doesn’t know a damn thing about the power, but we both know she’s lying. You knew something about the power – and we all know Rachel’s the smarter one of the two of you.”

“I’m not going to help you, Miles. You’ve wasted your time. I’m surprised they let you wander off on your own.”

Miles shook his head. “Let me?”

“Bass wouldn’t have let you come alone. Not dressed like that.”

Miles looked down at his traveling clothes. It wasn’t the usual green and leather uniform he was accustomed to wearing, but it was more comfortable. Plus, it wasn’t as easy to recognize him as “General Matheson” when he was dressed like a vagabond.

“This isn’t anyone else’s concern.”

He’d let Bass come with him the last time he’d gone off to find his family and he wasn’t about to do that again.

“I’m what, just to pick up everything and come with you to Philadelphia?”

“You are my brother, stranger things have happened.”

“You haven’t been my brother for a long time, Miles. You’re insane if you think I’m going to let Charlie and Danny grow up around you.”

“Does she even remember who I am? Does Danny even know you _have_ a brother?”

“I don’t know. We don’t spend our waking hours paying homage to the Father of the Republic.”

“Fuck you, Ben.”

“What did you expect, Miles? You’ve wasted your time. I’ve heard about what you’ve been up to, the things you’ve done. Trenton – you slaughtered people. Baltimore – you know what they call you?”

Miles met his brother’s gaze. He did know what they called him. His was a thankless job. Of course, he’d nearly died in Baltimore, but no one seemed overly concerned about that. Details seemed to be neglected this far out from the Capital. Plus, Ben had always chosen to see things the way he wanted them to be, not the way things were. His marriage, which had been crumbling before the blackout, proved that.

“’Butcher of Baltimore’, Miles. When people match my last name to yours, I tell them it’s a different Matheson. I’m _ashamed_ to be your brother. You’re a monster, Miles. And, that’s not the worst of it.”

Miles looked away, hands clenched into fists. If he started now, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop. Monster or not, he had lines. Murdering his brother that was his. “Oh really? It’s worse than ‘you’re a monster’? What, Ben, am I Satan, too?”

“Don’t play the martyr. You know what you’ve done. Maybe you’re right, someone needed to do something to keep order, maybe someone else would have done it if you hadn’t. You did though, you started something you had no business doing. Look at what’s happened. People are terrified of you and what you represent. Militia comes through town and people hide their children. But, someone has to be the bad guy, right? What about Bass? Look at what you did to him. You destroy everyone you touch, Miles. You don’t even realize you’re doing it. Or worse, you do and you just don’t care.”

Miles couldn’t look away, couldn’t move. Ben’s words hurt worse than the gut wound he’d had in Trenton, the one that nearly killed him. He was doing what was necessary, didn’t Ben understand that? Ben was always the idealistic one. The rules changed overnight, didn’t anyone else understand that?

“I know what I am, Ben.”

Ben at least seemed to consider his words. “Maybe you do.”

“If you hate me so much, why stick around? There’s a whole world out there, Ben. One not run by the 'Butcher of Baltimore'. If you’re so sure it’s better somewhere else – go.”

“It’s a little late for that.”

“It wasn’t the last time we had this pointless conversation.”

“I’m not doing this, Miles. You know my answer.”

Ben turned around and started to walk away. Miles shook his head, his hand clenched around the hilt of his sword. This was why he didn’t bring anyone with him. No one needed to see this. No one needed to know how much his own family despised him. This was his. Bass couldn’t save him from this.

“Don’t you walk away from me, Ben. Not this time.”

Ben whirled around and Miles wondered why he didn’t just let him walk away.

“Bass, your best friend – how many men do you think he’s killed for you? How many innocent people do you think he’s killed because of who you’ve forced him to become? _President Monroe_ , Jesus, Miles. What the hell were you thinking? You know he’ll follow you anywhere – you’re the only person he has left. And he’d still be better off alone, you know why? Because you’re a virus, Miles. You get into the system and poison everyone you touch. That guy, the one you guys ‘saved’? You’ve turned him into one of your killing machines, too. There’s no escape for them, Miles. They kill and they kill and they do it for you. Then you get worse, you kill more, you work harder to keep the peace, but you kill. You know they feel the need to keep up with you, to do what you do because you’re the leader. You never understood that. Even when you were kids, you never understood that. Bass always followed you _everywhere_ and you just let him. Just assumed he’d always do it. And now you’re destroying him.”

Miles opened his mouth to yell something at his brother. To defend himself, but the words died on his tongue.

“You’re right; you were right years ago when you first asked. I do know about the power, but you’ll have to pull out that gun I know you have on your hip and kill me because I’m not going to tell you a damn thing. You’re dangerous, Miles. Men like you don’t get to have families because they’ll end up dead or worse – they’ll end up like you. Why would I give you information to make you more lethal?” Ben took a deep breath, his eyes sad when they looked at Miles, not that he cared anymore; the damage was done. “Just go home, Miles – you’re not welcome here.”

 

“So I left,” Miles finished. “Met back up with Jeremy, who described my idiocy to me in detail, before coming back. They knew better than to ask where I’d gone, although I think Jeremy knew.”

The sun was setting as Miles finished his story, the decanter of whiskey nearly empty, but Miles’ words had been strong, sure – pained. Bass had wondered about that particular patrol for a good long while, but never felt like it was something for him to press, maybe he should have, maybe things would have – no he couldn’t go there. Maybe’s never fixed anything and Miles was here now, so there was still hope. He could still fix it. It was a good thing Ben Matheson was dead because it meant Bass didn’t need to hunt him down and kill him. He’d respected the man, too – considered him family, looked up to him, just like Miles, but now he was a bitter aftertaste in his mouth, a tainted memory of the man who taught them both how to make slingshots and fry ants with magnifying glasses.

“That’s when you decided to kill me,” Bass said, already knowing the answer to his unasked question. He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but he knew it wasn’t working. He saw Miles’ shoulders stiffen, and he should have cared, but he just couldn’t quite get there. All of this over his brother being an asshole. It was incredible, really, the depths of Miles’ stupidity was astounding sometimes.

Miles nodded, but wouldn’t face him. The silence in the room was oppressive and Bass almost wished they’d not had this particular conversation. Sometimes things were better left unsaid.

“That’s why it doesn’t matter anymore. Danny killing rebels, Charlie – well, I’m already a monster and that won’t change. Now everyone else will be, too.”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Miles.”

That got his attention, at least. Miles was facing him, a deep frown on his face.

“Bass – ”

“Shut up, Miles. Ben was a good man, but you’re wrong if you think this is your fault. Ben was right about me, I would follow you anywhere and if I could go back and do it over, I’d do it all the same. The only thing I’ve _ever_ cared about was watching your back, and that’s never going to change.”

“And that’s going to get you killed!”

“Fine!”

“That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”

“I doubt that.”

Miles rolled his eyes.

“You didn’t shoot me. You could have, you’d thought about it, gone through all the trouble of setting it up – but you didn’t go through with it.”

“I couldn’t,” Miles said as he hung his head.

“Why the _hell_ not?”

“Because we’re brothers, damnit!”

Bass opened his mouth, but shut it so quickly he nearly bit off his tongue.

“We’re brothers, and that’s never going to change. But then you were killing people, for me or something stupid like that, and it wasn’t ever meant to be like this.”

Bass moved in on Miles, forcing him to back up, his eyes wide, darting around the room, but Bass wasn’t going to let him leave, not now that he knew the truth, not now that he knew what made Miles freak out all those years ago. No, he’d never let Miles leave him again.

“First of all,” Bass said as he settled his hands on Miles’ hips, anchoring him to something real. “I’ll kill a hundred, a thousand – a million people if that’s what it takes to watch your back, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about that. Taking care of you has never been stupid, not to me.”

“Bass – ”

He put a finger to Miles’ lips. “Tell me you wouldn’t level an entire town to keep me safe. Tell me that and I’ll stop. I knew what I was doing, Miles. You Matheson’s think it’s all about you – you’re all such damn martyrs. People follow you though. And they’ll keep following you. I followed you to Iraq, Afghanistan. After the blackout, I followed you, after you tried to shoot me in the head, I followed you. You’re all I’ve got; you’re all I’ve had for a long time.”

Before Miles could think up an argument, Bass moved in closer and captured Miles’ lips in a kiss. He could feel Miles’ resistance, could feel him struggle to stay rigid, wanting to keep the argument going, wanting to talk himself into the crazy notion of killing Bass to save Bass and he wasn’t going to allow it. He dug his fingers into Miles’ hips until he gasped and Bass thrust his tongue past Miles’ lips, deepening the kiss whether Miles wanted to or not. Miles’ hands, which had been trying to push him away, were now clinging to him as though he was the only thing keeping him anchored. This was how it was always meant to be. Miles and Bass against the world. Bass didn’t care what they did, he never had. Miles could set the whole world on fire and Bass would stand next to him, even hand him the damn match if that’s what it took.

“If you ever decide to leave to save me from myself, you won’t have to shoot me – you’ll be dead,” Bass said when they broke for oxygen.

“I never expected to live through it.”

Bass rolled his eyes. “Murder-suicide is not the answer to our problems. Why’d you leave then? If you couldn’t kill me, why leave?”

“You had the Republic and it was going to be better without me there to _poison_ you. It made sense at the time.”

“Well, you’re an idiot.”

“Doesn’t make Ben wrong.”

“You still don’t get it. This was never about you, not really.”

Bass stepped back enough to pour them both a drink, emptying the decanter. He finally felt like he needed one, or twelve.

“Enlighten me.”

“Ben knew about the power going off, Miles. He _knew_. Rachel – she’s always known more than Ben. They’re part of whatever it is that went wrong that night. They didn’t force you to become the antichrist or whatever Ben convinced himself you turned into, but they created the situation that made everything that’s going on necessary. Look at the other areas, if you hadn’t done what you did, Trenton, Baltimore – all of it, someone else would be in charge. Foster, fuck, she could be President of the whole damn world by now. No one needs that. Or Texas, Miles, Texas.”

“That’s not – ”

“My point,” Bass emptied his tumbler, ignoring Miles’ attempt to speak. “is that they’re as responsible as we are. They might not like the world we’ve created, but they didn’t hesitate to make a blank canvas. More people died in that one night, and the weeks immediately following than in all the years you’ve been General Matheson. Don’t you _ever_ decide you’re going to kill me for my own good again. We might be monsters, but we’re a necessary product of the world your brother created.”

“That’s not good enough. At the beginning, even you questioned me, Bass. _I_ was the one who decided someone needed to do something – I appointed myself as the goddamned messiah or something. I killed two men because _I_ decided they deserved it. Didn’t hesitate, didn’t even think about it.”

“And if you hadn’t they’d’ve killed Jeremy. I doubt he’d thank you for that.”

“And he’s going to thank me now? Like any of you should be thanking me. Ben was right, Bass. I hurt everyone around me. People count on me, and they get hurt. You know why? Because I hurt them, and I don’t even think twice about it. That’s who I am. Look at what I did to you, to Alec – and Jeremy’s just going to thank me for saving him that day?”

Bass wanted to shake Miles until he stopped speaking. It was crazy. Miles wasn’t the one who second guessed, Miles always knew what he was doing – knew it was for the best. Everyone followed him because of how convicted he was about his decisions.

“That’s such bullshit. People count on you because you make things happen. You know how many times I followed you into something, knowing we’d probably die, but we didn’t. You said we’d make it – and we did. Alec knew his job, Miles. He failed. You can’t blame yourself for avoiding a war. General Blanchard died a few years ago. Alec came back. Do you hear me? Alec came back to the militia – to us.”

Miles blinked. “He came back?”

Bass nodded. “Yeah. Came back, announced the ‘bastard Blanchard’ was dead and wanted to know where his uniform was. You always knew how to train them. You always know which ones to keep close. It’s what’s kept us alive, Miles. It’s what’s kept the other areas from taking us over. Do you really think they’re going to be better? Our world, it’s not pretty, it’s not even nice, but if saving the country from war means sacrificing one man, then sure, we’re monsters.”

“He was ashamed of me, Bass. I disgusted him – my own brother.”

“Hey,” Bass said as he put his hands on Miles’ shoulders. He could feel Miles slipping away again. “I’m your brother. I’m not ashamed of you. Nothing you could ever do will change that. It’s you and me, remember?”

“We’re damned fools.”

Bass smirked.

“That night in the cemetery,” Miles began, eyes hooded, “I wasn’t lying. I know you think I was, but I wouldn’t be a damn thing without you. I’d probably be dead.”

“I’d never let that happen.”

Miles’ lips quirked up into nearly a smile. “Yeah, I know.”

There was a knock on the door and Bass understood how Miles felt about just shooting through it. The interruption was like a bucket of cold water on their conversation, and while Bass was fairly sure Miles wasn’t just going to up and leave in the middle of the night, things still felt a bit uneven. He needed Miles. And, whether or not he would admit it to himself, Miles needed General Matheson. Bass would never say it aloud because he quite liked having sex thank you very much, but Miles _enjoyed_ being General Matheson – and that scared Miles. Maybe it should scare Bass too, but it didn’t.

Jeremy came in without waiting to be invited. “I have news.”

Miles rolled his eyes. Jeremy looked at Bass. “What?”

Bass shook his head. “What is it?”

“Strausser has Mia and Nora Clayton. He’s going to bring them in, but he’s requesting more men. There are increasing reports of rebel activity in the area. Other units have reported high losses.”

Miles laughed outright, the sound music to Bass.

“He actually requested you,” Jeremy pointed to Miles with a smirk, “to come personally.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” Miles told Jeremy.

“That’s what I said. But, he’s worried something might happen between there and here.”

“He’s afraid Nora’s going to blow up his dangly bits.”

Bass laughed. “She could, you know.”

“If she cooperates, I might just let her – I might let her anyway.”

“He wants me to come, Bass. It’s not because he’s suddenly found himself surrounded by some invincible rebels. I don’t like it.”

“Sir, Neville has volunteered to take a group of men out to help. He thinks Danny’s ready for something like this.”

“No.”

“Miles – ”

“No. It’s too soon.”

“He volunteered.”

“Damnit.”

“Sir, if I may – ”

Bass raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t think he’s wrong. Danny’s been ready for this for a while now. He wants to prove himself. Now that his sister’s here…well, it’s only gotten worse. This isn’t exactly a high risk mission.”

“Strausser – a psychopathic killer – is asking for more men, for me, and it ‘isn’t exactly a high risk mission’?”

Jeremy threw his hands up, as though he was trying to calm a wild horse. “By our usual standards, no. Nora might blow them up, but that’s not exactly a likely outcome.”

“And the rebels?”

“Oh come on, Miles. There are _always_ rebels. Danny’s going to face them sooner or later.”

“Bring Danny and Charlie in here.”

Jeremy smiled and walked to the door; Charlie and Danny nearly tumbled to the floor when he opened it. Bass smirked, remembering doing that once or twice himself, usually with Miles right next to him.

“I can do it, Uncle Miles,” Danny started before he’d even climbed to his feet.

“No, you can’t.”

“You have to let me try,” Danny continued as he stood to his feet and straightened his uniform. “That’s what all this is for, isn’t it? Have you read all of the reports? The rebels are getting stronger and I have a chance to go and do something about that and you just want me to stay behind, tucked away in the Capital so I don’t get hurt?”

“It’s because they want to use you, Danny. Don’t you see that? If you die, they have no leverage with mom!”

Miles rolled his eyes. “Charlie, I don’t want Danny to get hurt because he’s my nephew. I don’t know if you’ve noticed but your mother hasn’t exactly been interested in the whole family group hug.”

Danny moved closer to Miles, the Matheson determination shining in his eyes. Bass almost felt bad for Miles, almost.

“You’re the family I’ve got – you and Charlie and Uncle Bass. Let me do this. Let me help.”

“What about mom? You’re just going to forget that she’s been here for years? They killed dad, too.”

Danny turned to face Charlie. “She left us. Uncle Miles tried to get her to come back to us, but she didn’t want to, Charlie. She knows we’re here, but she hasn’t wanted to see us. Her door is locked, from the inside. Uncle Miles and Uncle Bass, they’re it, whether you like it or not. I’m going to help them protect the Republic because that’s what we’ve got. If the rebels come through, do you think they’re just going to spare you because you don’t like Uncle Miles and Uncle Bass? You’re a Matheson. Start acting like one.”

Charlie looked as though someone had slapped her. She took a staggering step back from Danny, eyes filling with tears.

“Charlie – ”

She shook her head. “Don’t.”

She glared up at Miles, looking more like Rachel than anyone had any right to and stormed out of the room.

“Let her go,” Miles said as he put a hand on Danny’s shoulder.

Danny looked up at Miles. “I’m coming.”

Miles let out a deep sigh and looked at Bass and Jeremy. “Pack your shit. We’re going to Freeport.”

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'd, you know the drill.


End file.
